


Hale Yes: A Story of Stiles' Ruined Life (That Got So Much Better)

by StonyAvengerGirl16 (CharmedBritannia)



Series: A Life of Stiles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, BAMF Lydia Martin, Cuddling & Snuggling, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Fluff, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Oblivious Stiles, Pining Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-15 12:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4607514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharmedBritannia/pseuds/StonyAvengerGirl16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a somewhat awkward college freshman who wants to major in Forensic Science. Sure, he grew into his gangly limbs, and sure, he's pretty smart, but his insistent rambling and ADHD tendencies require a special brand of person to handle. Derek is the campus' most famous English major, and one of the extremely sexy yet extremely intimidating Hale siblings. So when their paths cross, all of a sudden Stile's life turns out much harder than it was supposed to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

\--------

Stiles slumped onto the table he was currently occupying, coffee steaming next to him. After receiving a swift kick to the shin with a rather sharp pointed heel, he jolted back to semi-consciousness. He yelped, and glared at the young woman sitting across from him.

 

"OW! Damnit, Lydia! Keep those weapons on your feet to yourself!"

"Don't fall asleep at the table. It's embarrassing."

"For you or for me?"

"Since you are a total hopeless loser that feels little to no shame, I take it upon myself to be embarrassed on your behalf."

 

He rolled his eyes as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. After he had gotten over his helpless puppy love for her, they had actually become rather awesome friends. She was scary, badass, gorgeous, fashionable, and intelligent, and Stiles was sure she was about sixty-five percent of why he wasn't harassed by the frat boys who normally fed on fresh meat like him. Nerdy, skinny fresh meat.

 

"Shame weighs you down. Without it, life gets much easier. Forensic Science is an ass-kicker and you can't let it best you."

"Is that why you still dress like a nerdy hobo?"

"Hey! This nerdy hobo is comfortable and has an eight A.M class three days a week. Show some respect."

 

She scoffed, and sipped her extremely complicated-ccino.  His own simple caramel mocha (screw this chilly weather) was to his mouth when Lydia's eyes widened a little.

 

"Stiles."

"What is it? Ghosts? Vampires? My Psychology professor pre-caffeine?"

"Don't panic."

"What?"

"Derek Hale is right behind you."

 

Stiles choked in an extremely ungraceful way, and had to fight to keep from spit-taking. He turned his head towards the door, and there he was. A god among humans. A supernaturally sexy English major. Derek Hale.

 

People knew three things about Derek Hale.

 

1\. He was extremely gorgeous. Adonis had nothing on those cheekbones, or those abs, or his anything, really.

2\. He was the second oldest of the three Hale siblings, and the only male. The Hale siblings were famous for being extremely attractive, extremely intimidating, and extremely wealthy.

3\. He was considered by most to be scary as hell. Unlike his two sisters, Derek Hale chose to remain inconspicuous (however much he could, anyway). He didn't party, he didn't pledge to a fraternity, and he seemed to hate about ninety-seven percent of the people he met. His face was set in a permanent scowl/grimace/grumpy cat-esque expression.

 

And Stiles had harbored an enormous crush on him for about three years.

 

He had first seen him during his junior year of high school, when Cora Hale had brought him into the diner where Stiles was employed at the time. He had spoken in the deepest voice he'd ever heard, and glared at almost everything, but Cora had nudged him and his expression went from pissed off to mildly annoyed and his pout was the most adorable thing he had ever seen ever. But now he was here, and he was just as amazing as he had remembered.

 

And he was staring right back at him.

 

Stiles had a mini-heart attack, and snapped his gaze back down to the table. He was so doomed. He had just stared down Derek Hale for however long and now he was going to be forever known as a creeper-

 

"Hey."

 

Stiles jumped, and snapped his head up, and found himself staring at a rather impressive set of clothed abs. He followed the body upwards, until he was face-to-face with Derek Fucking Hale.

 

SHIT.

 

Derek either didn't notice his inner panic or noticed it and ignored it, because he just raised an impressive eyebrow.

 

"Uh, H-hi! Wait, you're speaking to me right? Because if you're not, that's alright. I didn't know, so I'll just excuse myself-"

"I'm talking to you."

 

He had scrunched his eyebrows, and that shouldn't be adorable on someone so intimidating.

 

"O-oh! Awesome. Great. What do you need?"

 

"You're McCall's friend, right? Stiles Stilinski?"

"Yeah. And?"

 

Derek Hale knew his name. He knew he sounded like a teenage girl but _Derek Hale_ knew his name. He was also _so_ pissed off. He would be giving Scott a thorough chewing out on how he knew Derek Fucking Hale and did not share that information with his best friend who also had a crush on him. It was a total violation of the Bro Code as far as he was concerned.

 

"My sister's looking for a Chemistry tutor, and he said that you were 'amazing with that sort of thing'."

"I am. I mean, I think I am, not to brag or anything. I have an A in the class, though."

 

Derek nodded, and ran a hand through his hair.

 

"That's good, I guess. She'll text you, then."

"A-alright. Cool. Awesome. Great."

 

He left without any further words, and once he had left, he thumped his head against the table.

 

"Wow. You are so awkward."

"Not helping, Lydia."

"I'm serious. Watching you was like watching a fish trying to flop its way back to water."

"Whatever. I'm a cute fish. The flopping adds to my charm."

"If you say so."

"Don't say that, it's condescending."

"It's supposed to be."

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

 

(He really didn't.)

\-----

SCOTT MCCALL."

 

Scott's head snapped up, and he took one look at Stiles' face and jumped over the sofa where he and his boyfriend were sitting. Stiles gave chase, and they ran like ten year-olds around Scott and Isaac's shared apartment. Oh, he was going to regret telling him where the spare key was.

 

"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"

"WHY?"

"YOU KNEW _DEREK HALE_ AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?"

"I DIDN'T THINK IT WAS IMPORTANT!"

"YOU KNEW IT WAS IMPORTANT YOU PIECE OF SHIT-"

 

All of a sudden he was plucked up by one Isaac Lahey, and though he fought valiantly, he was stuck until he was put down. Stupid growth spurts and excess muscles. Where the hell was his, huh? He's waiting, Mother Nature!

 

"Unfortunately, I prefer Scott alive, so I'm going to have to intervene. Are you done?"

 

Sucks for him. Stiles took self-defense classes ( _no, they are not just for females, Lydia)._ With a hard backwards kick, his heel hit his shin, and he was on the floor once more, chasing Scott. It was only after he had tripped him and assaulted his ticklish spots that he felt he had sufficient retribution. So what if they were taller, faster, and stronger? Stiles was smart and knew enough to give him a fighting chance.

 

His butt vibrated, and he answered his phone while Scott recovered from his onslaught of painful, laughter inducing vengeance.

 

"Hello?"

"Is this Stiles Stilinski?"

"Yeah. Who is this?"

"Cora Hale. I got this number from Scott. Are you still interested in tutoring me? I'll pay you."

"Um. Sure."

"Awesome. What days?"

 

After sorting out their schedule, Cora thanked him.

 

"By the way, my brother thinks you're adorable."

 

There was shouting in the background, and the thumping of feet. The sound of a struggle was heard, and growled words that he couldn't make out. Before he could properly vocalize his 'what the shit' reaction, she had hung up. That was just mean. Obviously Derek had talked about the awkward loser in Starbucks, and she felt the need to tease him about it. Whatever. He was getting paid.

 

He slipped his phone back into his back pocket, and grabbed his stuff.

 

"Don't think I've forgotten this, McCall!"

 

And with that he headed back to his Jeep to head home. He had an early-as-balls class tomorrow, and a professor who hated late people and people who fell asleep.

\----

\-----

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

\-----

Stiles left his apartment building in the morning to see Derek Hale waiting outside. He hadn't noticed him, so Stiles took a moment to soak in the absolute gorgeousness. The tight black Henley and dark wash jeans hid _none_ of his impressive stature. He wore his famous leather jacket, and despite it being somewhat cloudy, he wore black aviators. He was leaning on a sleek, black Camaro, and it just emphasized his sexy and untouchable being, and he drew more than a little attention. What the hell was he doing here?

 

He shrugged and made his way to his Jeep, until he heard a growled out, "Stiles".

 

He spun around, and yup, there was Derek, looking hella annoyed and overall grumpy. Whatever. He hadn't had his caffeine yet, so his limited self-preservation instincts were missing.

 

"Yes? Can I help you?"

 

His eyebrows scrunched together, and he scowled a little deeper.

 

"I'm here to pick you up."

"What? Why?"

"McCall said your Jeep was having issues, and I have a morning class anyway. Get in the car."

"But, my Jeep-"

" _Get._ In the car."

 

He got in the car.

 

It was really weird. Why the hell had Scott even shared that information? Whatever. It was too early for this.

 

"Do you want coffee or something?", Derek asked as he pulled out onto the street.

 

Stiles blinked.

 

"I guess, I mean, I usually just grab something from the café in my building-"

 

But not ten minutes later, he was holding a steaming hot Starbucks in front of his class building. He gave a thanks, and waved. Derek nodded, and pulled off towards his own class. He strode inside, ignorant of the awed/envious looks he was getting.

\-----

"Dude. Derek Hale picked me up today."

 

Scott nodded, chewing on his pencil.

 

"Yeah. I told him about your Jeep, and he volunteered."

"Why did you tell him about my Jeep? She works fine."

"No she doesn't."

 

Stiles huffed, and leaned back in his chair. Isaac had an evening class today, so Scott and Stiles were having a bro night. Scott was struggling through Calculus, after Stiles had yanked his phone and bitched about his C-. Scott had grumbled that not everyone can be a genius, and Stiles just smirked and told him to get started. Of course, he had made Caramel Bars as incentive, and every right answer got one. Since he was a poor college student, he didn't get to make them often, so they were the perfect bribery tool.

 

"Still. Why tell him? Why would he even care?"

 

Scott shot him a look that meant that he was missing something very, very important, and Stiles just shot back with a very, very oblivious face.

 

"I don't know, Stiles. You tell me. Why would he care?"

"He probably just wants to make sure I'm not a creep or something. I _am_ tutoring his sister."

"Stiles."

"What?"

 

Scott just blinked, and shook his head.

 

"You are so bad at relationships, dude."

"Well _excuse_ me! Not all of us can have adorably sexy boyfriends, Thank you very much!"

 

Scott mumbled something, but Stiles was already irritated.

 

"Shut up and do your math, or no Caramel Bars."

"Aw, dude!"

\-------

So this was now a regular thing.

 

He would wake up, and there would be one Derek waiting for him outside. It didn't make sense, so he chose to just ignore the thoughts until they went away. It didn't help that his heart was being an asshole and wouldn't let him forget it. Derek didn't talk much, but his face was actually very expressive if you knew what to look for. His eyebrows were a big indicator. Not to mention that he was sarcastic as fuck once you got him talking. But Stiles was also sarcastic as fuck, and this led to many arguments about some of the stupidest shit sometimes. For example, Cora had invited Stiles and their friends over to have dinner at the sibling's shared home. He was talking about what he should cook, when they got on the topic of meats.

 

"Rare steak is so gross."

 

Derek looked extremely offended.

 

"No, its not."

"Shouldn't you, I don't know, eat something that _doesn't_ have a chance of giving you parasites or other freaky shit?"

"It doesn't even-you eat sushi, don't you? That's not cooked at all."

"That's different!"

"How."

"I just noticed that you say questions like statements or demands, it's called a question mark-"

"Don't get off topic. Explain."

 

So that's how most of their conversations went. But it wasn't hostile. Sure Derek got kind of growly sometimes, but that was only when he knew he was wrong or felt threatened of being embarrassed. It was cute, in a weird way. Cora had gifted him with Derek's cell number, but he had been petrified of using it. At least, until Derek had texted him saying that anything Cora told him was a filthy lie and to ignore her. He had texted back a 'sure, okay', and that had been the beginning of that.

 

Lydia kept giving him weird looks every time he dug his phone out of his pocket. She finally spoke up when Derek had dropped him off one day in front of his building where she was waiting. Derek had gotten kind of quiet and irritated as the rolled up, and he sped off rather abruptly. Must have been in a hurry. Once he got close enough, she smacked him over the head, _hard._

 

_"Damn, woman. What is your issue?!"_

"When were you going to tell me you're dating 'Derek Hottie Hale'?"

"I was intoxicated and therefore that should not be used against me."

"Of course not. So. When were you going to tell me, exactly?"

"Never. We're not dating. He puts up with my general existence."

 

 

Lydia gave him a look that screamed 'you're an idiot'. She huffed, and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

 

"Whatever, Stiles. A little birdie told me that you're going to his house for dinner."

"Yeah. This Saturday. Scott, Isaac, and I are heading over. You can come too, if you want. I don't think he'd mind."

"Well, duh. I _have_ to go. Who else is going to make sure you don't make a fool out of yourself?"

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

 

(He still didn't.)]

\-----

 


	3. Chapter 3

\-----

"No."

"Stiles."

_"No."_

 

He knew that he would lose anyway, but he had to keep some of his dignity. He was losing it rapidly, because she was currently dragging his ass by the hood of his hoodie through the mall like a mother wolf would carry her cub. This was _so_ embarrassing.

 

"Come on, Lydia! It's just dinner. I'm going to chill with friends."

"Correction. You are going to chill with friends and _Derek._ I refuse to allow you to enter the house like this."

"But-"

"Shut the hell up, Stiles."

 

He shut up.

 

So he accepted his fate, and allowed her to throw clothes at him, and force him to try them on like some sort of living mannequin. She was a hard one to please, and she made store attendants cower in her wake. By the time she was done, he had several new outfits. The one he was going to wear on Saturday consisted of black skinny jeans that were much tighter than anything he ever wore in his life (he was gangly. Sue him for wanting to make himself look a little bit larger). A cream V-neck that she insisted brought out his uniquely colored eyes and an extremely soft grey button-up sweater would decorate his top half. A new pair of grey Converse, and he was set.

 

He still thought he looked ridiculous, but he knew better than to question her fashion sense.

\----

Saturday came, and he had texted Derek saying that he was going to make something. Lydia was going with her boyfriend Jackson (Stiles still couldn't stand him eighty-five percent of the time), so he asked if they could stop and grab some ingredients. He had texted back a simple 'fine', and so he made a list of things he'd need, and grabbed the dessert he made this morning out of the freezer (it needed to be cold to taste right).

 

When Derek had showed up to escort him to their house, he had looked him up and down several times. He knew it. He looked awkward, this isn't what he normally wore, and his hair was all wrong-

 

Derek seemed to notice he was staring once Stiles shifted, and his eyes snapped back up to his face. His brows furrowed; he was frustrated.

 

"Where's your date?"

"Date? What date? Did I need one?"

"No. But you had said you were bringing someone named Lydia. I assumed she was your date."

"Lydia? No. We're just friends."

 

His expression softened, and Stiles couldn't help but be a little hurt. Of course. Of _course_ he would be interested in Lydia. Why not? And he was relieved to find out that he wouldn't have to compete with the skinny nerd. Suddenly, he didn't feel like talking, and he spent most of the ride looking out of the window. Once they parked in the store parking lot, he hopped out without looking. He heard the car alarm set, and turned around, hands on his hips.

 

His heart hurt, alright? Cut him some slack.

 

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know, Stiles. What does it look like I'm doing."

"Use your question marks, damnit-"

"Whatever. I'm going shopping with you. Who else is going to pay for this food?"

"I was."

"You're making something for several other people who eat quite a bit. Besides."

 

He crossed his (impressive, damn him) arms and glared at nothing.

 

"Scott said your food was good. I wanted to try it."

 

Stiles blinked. He turned around, continuing on towards the store.

 

"Fine. Since I'm not paying, I'm going to cook a full meal. It's been a long time since I have, and I miss cooking."

 

Throughout the whole trip, Derek was a muted presence behind him as he inspected ingredients. It wasn't until he turned back with a bag of bell peppers that he realized he had moved. Inside the cart was a box of chocolate cake mix and frosting. Derek refused to look at the cart, and Stiles held in a snort. He had snuck something into the basket like a toddler. He assumed this was his way of asking for a specific dessert. But there was no way in the ninth ring of hell that was staying in his cart.

 

Derek looked disgruntled when he took them out, but confused when he started grabbing legitimate ingredients. He actually let out a snort when he watched Derek inspect the semi-sweetened chocolate chips like they were foreign objects.

 

After it was paid for and loaded into the car, they continued on in a less tense silence than before.

\-----

"YES! Stiles is cooking!"

 

Everyone was staring at him and Scott as they brought in the groceries. Lydia rolled her eyes, but smiled when she saw the lasagna ingredients. Isaac and Jackson just raised their eyebrows, having never really tasted his cooking. Well, they were going to now.

 

"Thanks, Derek. Everyone out of the kitchen! That means you too, McCall. I'm watching you."

"But-"

"Christmas Chaos of '04. I'm still pissed. Get the fuck out."

 

Scott mumbled, but plopped down on the couch anyway.

 

Cora raised an eyebrow.

 

"Christmas Chaos?"

 

Stiles answered before Scott could lie.

 

"Two batches of a dozen sugar cookies. Two containers of icing. Gone three hours before Christmas dinner. He felt sick. I punched him for ruining my dessert, and he vomited on everyone's gifts."

 

Scott's face burned as everyone cracked up laughing.

\-----

After about two hours, delicious smells were wafting out of the kitchen area. Scott looked like he was going to disregard the consequences and steal something, while everyone else perked up. Even Derek looked curious. Pretty soon, Stiles called them into the dining room. Everyone was shocked.

 

Stiles had really gone all out. He had taken advantage of the Hale's cutting edge kitchen, that was clear (they didn't really use it, but the appliances came with the house, so). The centerpiece was an enormous and intricate lasagna, stuffed with different meats and vegetables, covered with a hearty amount of cheese. A large ceaser salad with baked chicken, spinach artichoke dip and mini-toasts,  and lettuce wraps surrounded it. Cora brought out several bottles of alcohol and sparkling cider, and everyone sat down to eat. Scott immediately reached over for a mini-toast when Stiles smacked his hand with the tongs. Scott yelped and begrudgingly took the utensil.

 

Soon enough, the table had dissolved into a war zone.

 

"Scott! You've already had four pieces of toast!"

"There's plenty left! And you ate the chicken out of the salad!"

"Did not! And you don't even _like_ salad!"

"I like Stiles' salad!"

"You can't talk, Lahey! You took all of the bell peppers out of the lasagna!"

"Since when do you eat them, Whittemore?"

"Since now!"

"Get your fork away from my plate!"

"Derek. Put down the lettuce wrap."

"No."

" _Derek."_

Give me your piece of lasagna, then."

"No way. This has the most meat in it."

"Exactly. You want the wrap, give me the piece."

"Half for half."

"Deal."

 

Stiles just watched on, amused and shocked. They were like a pack of wolves. He sipped his sparkling cider, and smiled. He had never been a ravenous person, and he was glad, because there was plenty of fighting going on for what was on the table. God new what dessert was going to look like.

\------

"So! Derek chose dessert. Well, kind of. He placed the mix in the cart which is a dire insult/offense but still."

 

Derek looked away, but kept glancing at the kitchen.

 

When Stiles came back with the dishes, everyone crowded them. He pulled the lid off, and he already knew Scott was going to fight someone.

 

"Triple chocolate cake with caramel drizzle, peanut butter cocoa squares, and Oreo cookie crumble crunchy cake I made earlier today."

 

Scott and Derek made eye-contact, and the tension in the room was so thick you could cut it. No one else made a move, scared that they would be brought into the mine-field.

 

"Best friend gets first cut."

"I requested it."

"I knew him longer."

"It's my house."

"He likes me better."

" _Over my dead body, McCall."_

 

During this whole posturing thing, Stiles had reached over and pre-cut the cake. Slipping it onto their plates, both of them spared a final glare, but dug in.

 

"Wow. Stiles, this is amazing. I'm keeping you. Good idea, huh Derek?"

 

Derek glanced over at Stiles.

 

"Yeah. I guess it is."

 

(Stiles did _not_ blush, than you very much.)

\------

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

\----

Stiles groaned, and rolled over. His head was thundering, and he couldn't open his eyes. What had happened last night? He remembered sipping his white grape sparkling cider while sitting with the others. Somehow, he had wound up on the loveseat (he was sure Lydia was behind that) with Derek. With a groan, he remembered that Lydia had filled Stiles' glass with delicious alcohol (he thought it was vodka). It had tasted great and made him feel rather nice and fuzzy, and so he kept drinking.

 

That made everything _so_ much clearer.

 

He struggled to sit up, and found that he was on bed. It was a nice bed, very large and squishy. The room was rather bare, but it held four bookshelves filled with dusty old books. Once he was upright, he noticed folded clothing in front of him; a large hoodie, and long sweatpants. He looked around, before shrugging and pulling them on. It was a nice change from the restrictive clothing Lydia had forced him into last night. Once he was decent, he braved the stairs and almost snorted (his head forbid it).

 

Derek was laying on his stomach, face squashed into the cushions. His shirt had disappeared, and his sweats hung low. This was very nice, but it didn't subtract from the hilarity of it all. Everyone else must have gone home already, since it was rather quiet. He decided to make himself useful and brew some coffee, because he _really_ needed it. And a big breakfast, that helped hangovers, right? He thought so.

\---

Stiles placed the coffee on the table in front of Derek. The effect was almost instantaneous. He nose twitched, and he blindly smacked around the coffee table until his hand reached the mug. Once he had it, he took a gulp from it, scrunched his eyebrows, and cracked open an eye.

 

"Good morning, Sourwolf."

 

His eyebrows scrunched further.

 

"Sour...wolf?"

"Yeah. You guys acted pretty wolf-pack-like last night, and your disposition is a little sour. So, Sourwolf."

 

Derek just stared at him blankly, before obviously deciding it was too early to decipher Stiles' rants and kept drinking his coffee.

 

"I thought you were going to add something, dude."

"I like it black."

"You had a sweet tooth last night, so..."

 

His cheeks turned pink, as well as the top of his ears. Adorable. He didn't want anyone to know about that.

 

"I just-look-don't talk about it. Ever."

"What? Why not? It's not that bad, dude, and you obviously work out like crazy, so-"

"I will rip your throat out. With my teeth. Silence."

 

Other people would be threatened by that, but A. Stiles was not known for his self-preservation,  and B. he knew that he was just embarrassed and agitated.

 

"Fine. I won't tell anyone. So are you going to tell me what happened last night, or am I going to have to scavenger hunt for my lost memories?"

 

Derek choked on his coffee, and Stiles hurried to pat his (rock solid, damn) back.

 

What the hell had he done that was so bad?

\-----

_"Lydia. Lyds."_

_"Yes, Stiles?"_

_"I love ya. Like, not really, but kind of really."_

_"Thanks, Stiles."_

_"Yer welcome. But no, Der? I really love him."_

_"We know Stiles."_

 

Stiles had proceeded to lay over Derek's lap; wiggling, giggling, and wasn't this stuff great?

 

_"Yus. I reeeaally love Der. His face. It's like...grumpy. But cute. Sorry Der. Yer cute."_

_"I'm not cute, Stiles."_

_"Yus you are. But yer hot too. 'snot fair."_

_"Why not?"_

_"Cause. That means that I can' have you. 'M sad now. Need more drink. LYDS!"_

_"And that's enough. I'm not cute, and you're completely wasted."_

_"Heh, Stilinski can't hold his liquor for shit. I'm not surprised."_

_"I think it's **cute.** Right, Derek? Aw, he's hugging you, how sweet!"_

_"This is hilarious."_

_"Can it, Jackson."_

_"This is your fault, Martin. I can't let him loose in his apartment building like this. He'll stay with me. Everyone else, leave."_

_"'M staying? YAY! Lyds! It's like that dream I had in twelfth grade!"_

 

Lydia had snickered, Derek had choked, and everyone else had shuddered.

 

_"Yes. Alright. That's a thing. Everyone, get out."_

\----

Stiles had busied himself with breakfast (at least the kitchen was clean) while Derek woke himself up. The house seemed empty without everyone in it. Cora had a morning class, she had said last night. Philosophy. That was it. He thought. Probably.

 

Derek shuffled into the kitchen, still sans shirt. It was a difficult fight to ignore those chiseled abs, but he made a valiant effort. He instead focused on the frying pan in front of him. At least the Hale siblings had bacon.

 

 

He set to work on cooking the eggs. Derek scrunched his eyebrows (he did that a lot).

 

"That's...a lot of vegetables. Are they all necessary?"

"Yes, they are necessary. They make the omelets taste better."

"But...mushrooms."

 

Stiles raised an eyebrow. At Derek's blank stare, he made a 'come on, out with it' motion with his  free hand.

 

"And....? Use your words, dude."

"...I don't...like them."

"There! Was that so hard? Just spit it out, Sourwolf. I'm plenty vocal with what I don't like. Like cauliflower. Or kale. Or radishes. Or beets. Or-"

 

Derek slapped a hand over his mouth, and Stiles fought against the immature urge to lick it, and then fought against the images that that conjured. It was pretty hard (no pun intended) to ignore said sexy images when sex personified was literally right behind him. So he flailed awkwardly, and mouthed off.

 

What? Sarcasm was his only real defense.

 

"Wooooow. Ok. Alright. No mushrooms. I'll make sure to refrain from angering the benevolent god of grumpiness."

"...Thank you."

 

Stiles raised an eyebrow. It was actually kind of adorable, how it seemed to cause Derek physical pain to form words. He wasn't threatening or scary. He was just shy, awkward, and easily irritated. Add that with an awful growl to cover his lack of a bite (and his unreachable attractiveness), and you have someone who could be sort of...lonely. No one really wanted to _know_ Derek Hale. Sleep with him? Sure. Spend his money? Absolutely. But actually sit down and talk to him? No way.

 

And that was hella sad.

 

If he told this to anyone, they would laugh at him, and Derek would probably do as he had previously threatened and tear his throat out with his teeth in a spectacularly wolf-like, gruesome manner.

 

So he decided just then, on the spot, that he'd become Derek's _best friend._ If he couldn't be a boyfriend/lover/husband/other fantasies that aren't important at the moment, he'd be the best bro _ever._ His Sourwolf would be a Sweetwolf before he knew it.

 

This was a _great plan._

\-----------

"That's an awful plan."

 

Stiles sank into his beanbag, refusing to meet Lydia's eyes. She had invited him to chill in her dorm at her sorority house, and it still unnerved him to be in there. So many boobs, so much neon, and they all gravitated to gay men (they called him a twink, and he was very offended when he looked that up, thank you very much).

 

"And why is that?"

"First, he's like three years your senior. Second, you currently _have_ a best friend. Both guy and girl slots are filled. And if that's not enough, you _like_ the guy, Stiles. How the hell are you going to be objective about _anything_ when it comes to him? What if he asks for dating advice, huh? What then?"

 

Suddenly, Stiles felt like breaking furniture and sobbing while eating cookie dough ice-cream.

 

"Look, Lydia. He already _has."_

_"WHAT?!"_

 

Stiles glared.

 

"Yes. He likes you. When he came to pick me up, he was _very_ relieved to hear that we weren't dating. You've successfully stolen my man with your beauty, brains, and badassery."

"Stiles-"

"NOPE. Do you know how much this sucks? I get over one unreachable crush, gain another, then the first one snags the second one. I feel like my heart's been danced on by monster trucks. I hate you. Leave me alone in my misery."

 

Lydia looked like she either wanted to murder him or off herself, or maybe both.

 

"Stiles Stilinski. I have had _enough._ You're an idiot, and Derek's emotionally stunted, and Cora owes me _all the drinks._ Sit your skinny ass down, because I'm about to tell you a goddamn story."

\------

"So...Cora's _not_ struggling with Chemistry?"

"No. She has a B."

"And _Isaac_ is friends with Derek?"

"Scott doesn't like him that much."

"And _Cora_ was _in on this?"_

"As was I."

 

Stiles felt awful. He felt awkward, and hopeful. That together literally makes the word awful. Derek Hale was interested in him? What the shit? What universe was he in; he wanted to go home. Because in his universe, Derek Fucking Hale pretended he didn't exist. That was safe. That was cool. But it all went out the window when he _liked him back._

 

SHIT.

 

This, this was why he was still a virgin.  

 

What did he do now? Did he ask Derek out? Did he wait for him? Did he ignore everything? He didn't know what to do.

\------

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

\-----

He decided to pretend it didn't exist.

 

Because this, this didn't make sense.

 

There was supposed to be a _balance._

 

_A balance._

 

Derek Hale was supposed to put up with his existence. Stiles was suppose to quietly pine. They were both on their separate ends of the spectrum, and that was how it was supposed to be. Since when did Derek Hale decide to stride his perfect ass over to his side and start... _pursuing_ him? It didn't even sound right. That would be like Adonis in all his god-like glory deciding to romance a potato farmer.

 

_The balance._

 

In what universe did this happen? Where was he? He wanted to go home. Because this made no fucking sense whatso-fucking-ever. People didn't try to date Stiles. Stiles was the comic relief. He was the smartass friend of the people who others wanted to date. He had _no idea what he was doing._

\-----

Since he was actively avoiding leaving his house, Stiles decided he may as well take a day-off to completely recuperate. He had just finished making a nice little cocoon of blankets and pillows on his couch to go along with his non-judgmental snacks and Netflix when there was a knock on his door. Stiles rolled his eyes, and stomped over to the door. Thinking it was just Scott having forgotten something, _again,_ he swung open the door without any hesitation.

 

"Scott, I swear that I am going to start safety-pinning your shit to your face if you don't stop leaving it here-"

 

And instead he was met with the face of Derek Hale.

 

Because he was an awkward fish, and did not think about the consequences before he did things (especially when startled), he did what any rational person would do. What? Invite him in, of course not. Talk to him, are you mad? No, he did something _much better._

 

_He slammed the door in Derek Hale's face._

 

It took him about point zero three seconds to realize what he'd done, and then he did some sort of anxious hop, wondering if it was better to open the door, apologize, and humiliate himself, or ignore him, and hope he left-

 

_*I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed_

_Get along with the voices inside of my head_

_Keep tryin' to save me, stop holding your breath_

_You think I'm crazy_

_Yeah you think I'm crazy_

_And that's not fair*_

 

"Lydia, this is not the time I swear to god-"

_"Open the door, Stiles."_

"What? How-"

_"Cora just texted that Derek just called and said you slammed the door in his face."_

"But, Lyds-"

_"Stiles. You have an emotionally-stunted, wounded puppy in the form of a threatening, hunky beefcake outside your door right now. Either you open the door, or I stomp over there in my Gucci boots and kick it down. Your choice."_

"Alright, alright!"

_"Good boy. I hate getting my boots dirty."_

"I hate you."

_"No you don't."_

 

She hung up, and Stiles ran towards the door.

\-----

"Wait, stop!"

 

Derek froze in place, but didn't turn around.

 

"Look. I get it. This was a stupid idea. Jus-can we forget this even happened?"

"Nope. Sorry about that. I just had a mini-panic attack is all. What's in your hand?"

 

Derek's face remained scrunched, but a hint of pink made its way across his cheeks and on the tips of his ears. Stiles managed to turn him all the way around, and almost squealed like a schoolgirl when he saw what he had brought with him. A box of pastries from his absolute _favorite bakery_ (they were expensive, but their blueberry-lemon scones were to die for), and a bouquet of tulips, sunflowers, and one other type of flower he couldn't name.

 

"Derek, they're _wonderful!_ How did you-"

 

He was staring at a spot about four feet above Stile's head.

 

"I had asked your friend. She said you liked pastries from that place. So...yes."

"Speaking of which, were you, _jealous,_ of Lydia?"

"...Maybe."

"I'm so dumb. I thought you liked her or something."

 

Derek's eyebrows furrowed.

 

"I know. She's an acquired taste. What about the flowers?"

 

The light flush darkened a bit, and spread all the way down his neck.

 

"I...struggle, sometimes. With words. And feelings. So Cora tried...and. She thought it'd be... _cute and romantic._ Maybe. Something like that."

"So...do they mean something then?"

 

Stiles didn't know when, but he had stepped into Derek's space. Like, _quite far_ into Derek's space. Well, he was there now. May as well stay, get comfortable. He pulled out a red tulip.

 

"So?"

"That one...declaration...of love."

 

Yellow tulip.

 

"Hopeless love."

"Hm. Is that so?"

 

Sunflower.

 

"Adoration."

"How sweet of you. What's this one?"

"It's a larkspur. It means...beautiful soul."

 

Stiles smiled, and patted Derek's cheek. Derek just looked a little lost.

 

"They didn't have any...strong like flowers. So they're not  _love flowers,_ per say, but, they're definitely not 'friendship' flowers, either."

"And that's quite all right by me. Say. Those desserts smell tasty, and I _know_ you have a sweet tooth. So why don't you come in and we eat them together?"

 

He didn't even let Derek answer, choosing to just pull him into the apartment by the front of his jacket. But from the goofy look on Derek's face, he wasn't exactly complaining.

\-----

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

"Oh, yuck."

 

Stiles lifted his head from the couch cushion, and gave a small wave to Cora.

 

"Hey. How was Chemistry, you lying liar who lies?"

 

Cora furrowed her eyebrows (they didn't have the same effect as Derek's; too dainty).

 

"Are you still on about that?"

"Yes. I am still on about that. Do you know what grief you put me through?"

"You? What about me? Not only did I have to try and be the bridge between you two, I had to keep from bashing your heads in, and now I owe Lydia 'all of the drinks'."

"Karma's a bitch and she has strawberry blonde hair."

 

She just groaned, and waved a hand in their general direction.

 

"Whatever. But, what have you done to him? He's all...squishy now."

"I am currently underneath that 'squishy' and I can tell you-"

"ENOUGH. You know what I mean."

 

And yes, despite his trolling, he did know what she meant.

 

After that first enthusiastic make-out session in his apartment, Derek couldn't seem capable of putting Stiles down.

 

At all.

 

When they slept together, Stiles always wound up with Derek's arms around him and his legs tangled with the other's. If he drove them, one hand would be holding his. He wasn't against PDA either, because he had given him some heated kisses after dropping him off that left him a little giggly and more than a little horny. But the genuine smile that graced his face whenever Stiles accepted or reciprocated his affection, or gave him his own, always made it worth it. Speaking of affection, Derek had started to wake up.

 

It was always adorable watching him wake up, but he really needed to sleep some more. He had been swamped with assignments lately, and it was taking its toll on him. He had found out that if you rubbed in just the right spot on the back of his head, Derek would literally go boneless. He was currently taking advantage of this knowledge, and Derek was humming in contentment and kissing the crook of his neck when Cora made her presence known again.

 

"Oh, ew! We all sit on that couch, Derek!"

 

Derek seemed to be steadfastly ignoring his sister, and Stiles had to literally pull his head from his neck to get him to answer her. Even then, he was very brief with his answers.

 

"Go away, Cora."

"I'm serious, Derek. Take your weird, brother-sexy times where sister doesn't sit down on a regular basis."

"Go  _away,_ Cora."

"I can't believe this. A few weeks ago and you were planning to live the rest of your life out as a monk in the mountains, and now you're this...this...insatiable sex fiend?"

" _Sex fiend?"_

 _"Sex fiend._ You grope him everywhere. You kiss him all the time. And don't think that Lydia or myself haven't caught you two. _In public."_

"When-"

"Broom closets. Bathrooms. The library."

"How do you-"

"Sources. Point being, when did you become this big ball of cutesy romance and constant horniness?"

 

Derek just smirked, and pressed himself further onto Stiles. Bastard knew what he was doing. Since he was laying between his legs, he was helpless to stop the _horribly embarrassing keen_ that forced its way out of his throat. Cora just groaned in disgust, and left. Stiles glared up at him.

 

"You dirty cheater."

"What do you mean?"

"You used me. And you can't even hide how smug you are, you dick."

 

Speaking of dicks, thanks to Derek, Stiles' was halfway interested in the proceedings. He wiggled  in an effort to get away, but Derek squashed that rebellion quickly and leaned back into Stiles' neck.

 

"I might have. But it doesn't seem like you mind very much."

 

Stiles resisted the urge to groan, but he couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine at his tone of voice.

 

"In fact, I'd dare to say that you liked it. _Very much."_

 

Stiles was showing him how much he liked it by dragging him down even further and connecting their lips, and Derek was eagerly participating by causing some _delicious_ friction, when they were rudely disturbed by a cold shower.

 

Literally.

 

Derek growled, and looked over the banister where his _darling sister_ was holding a large bucket, looking utterly unrepentant. She smirked at Derek's growled threats of violence.

 

"Not on the fucking couch."

\--------

THE END.

 

 


End file.
